


void

by orphan_account



Series: help me breathe [11]
Category: Topp Dogg (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gangs, Gen, its ALLLL GONE TO SHIT
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 09:12:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5042512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's always a breaking point; this is it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	void

**Author's Note:**

> a great thought: why isn't this series like, fandom famous yet? i don't mean to toot my own horn, but like... most toppdogg fics with potential are oneshots, pwp, or unfinished. i am loyal to this series and yet only ~10 people have read it, and only ~4 have read it in its entirety
> 
> anyway. narcissism aside. i hope you enjoy! kudos + comments are appreciated!

“It’s weird.”

Sanggyun hums in response, prompting Dongsung to speak more.

“Having other people tell me about myself… having to read about who I am because I don’t remember.” Dongsung casts a look to the papers spread out in front of him, which are mostly just a rehashing of his entry papers. Yoonchul got his birth certificate from the local courts and not much else, but it’s better than nothing. “It’s so horrible, because I start to remember something and then I just hit this wall and can’t go any further.”

“Don’t stress yourself,” Sanggyun says, shifting to lean against Dongsung and peek over his shoulder at the documents. “It’s not a big deal, it’s only been like… a month, right? Amnesia is hard to overcome, I’ve heard.”

Dongsung frowns, closing his eyes and pressing the heels of his hands against them. “It’s so frustrating, I hate it. I don’t- I don’t remember why I let Sehyuk do this to me… Do you know?”

Sanggyun shrugs, sitting up again when his phone chirps. “I just remember when you joined, when Sehyuk was still interested in talking. You looked so… mean, scary. Hateful. Now you’re like a big puppy dog.”

Dongsung can’t hold back a laugh, short and through his nose. “I guess that’s alright, then.” Dongsung says, and Sanggyun makes a noise of agreement.

“Yoonchul says he found some more stuff to show you, look.” Sanggyun shows his phone to Dongsung for proof, and Dongsung reads through the texts Yoonchul sent (“tell dsung that i found some more things hes gotta see” “its not pretty”). “He’ll be here by morning.”

Dongsung nods thoughtfully, staring off into space once Sanggyun moves away. “Assassin… that’s what he does. Is he gone for long?”

“Depends. Sometimes he’s gone for a couple hours, sometimes a week. It’s really worrisome, I don’t get much sleep when he’s gone.” Sanggyun sighs, flopping back onto the couch. Dongsung does the same. “He always gets home safe, though. He’s good at what he does.”

A few moments of silence pass before Sanggyun asks, “More Assassin’s Creed while we wait?”

Dongsung agrees, almost enthusiastic. It’s weird to feel such emotion, when everything before was so calculated and controlled. Having fun, being happy- it’s so strange.

 

“I’ve never been to a place like this before.”

“Really?”

Dongsung nods, and it looks almost like he wants to hold Sanggyun’s hand. It reminds Sanggyun of a particularly nervous child. “It’s… a cemetery, right?”

“Yep. Isn’t it kind of funny that when you asked me for places to go, this was like, the first thing I thought of?”

Dongsung laughs, following behind Sanggyun as they approach the gate of the cemetery. “I think what’s funnier is that we had this idea at four in the morning.”

Sanggyun vaults over the gate with ease, as it’s low and there’s no spikes along the top. There’s never been any problems with vandalism or grave robbers, so there’s no need for them. “I like to think I’m in good with the priest, he’s seen me come over here before.”

“For… for who?”

Sanggyun turns to offer a hand to help Dongsung over the gate, even though he doesn’t need it at all. Dongsung takes it anyway, and holds it even after they’ve started on their way again. “My mom. I told you all about it the other day, and I just… I dunno. I come out here often. I used to come once a day but now it’s like, once a month at the most… I guess I gotta move on sooner or later.”

They move through the rows of granite and marble together before reaching one bearing the name “Kim Hyojin”, Sanggyun sitting down beside the headstone and Dongsung standing awkwardly for a few moments before doing the same.

“Do you remember anything about your mom?” Sanggyun asks, tone gentle.

“Ah… some things. I remember cooking most strongly, I think she’s a good cook. I hope she is.”

Sanggyun nods, turning so he’s facing Dongsung. “My mom was a great cook. I miss it. It’s been so long and I still miss her.”

There’s a long stretch of silence, filled with only the breeze rustling the trees overhead and their own breathing, until Dongsung inhales and speaks. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get over it.” Sanggyun stays quiet, so Dongsung continues. “Knowing that… even if I didn’t have much say in how Sehyuk messed with my head… I still did it to myself, I didn’t just leave.” Dongsung pulls his knees up to his chest, wind blowing the faux fur on his coat against his cheeks. “I’ve had so many chances to kill him. I remember that much, I could’ve killed him the first day I was there. Or the first time he literally told me to kill him. Or… the first time we slept together, I could have killed him then.”

“You can’t count everything by missed chances,” Sanggyun says, looking beyond Dongsung, at the forest beyond. “What you did or didn’t do doesn’t matter now, it’s just what you do moving forward.”

Dongsung wipes tears away as soon as they fall, sniffing. “It’s just so hard, I feel like it’s all my fault, how do I get rid of that?”

“Man, seriously, I dunno. My advice is to just… not think too hard, right?” Sanggyun pats Dongsung’s shoulder, then, after a moment’s pause, reaches up to ruffle his hair. “Make a new person out of yourself, don’t worry about who you used to be. There’s no point.”

Dongsung nods, resting his chin on his knees. “I just… I want to know what I’ve done, who I’ve hurt, so I can apologize.”

Sanggyun thinks of nights spent in fear and listening to Sangdo cry and the way Hyosang can’t fully smile anymore, for several reasons. “Well, I can think of where to start. Later, though.”

 

Obituaries. Printed in black and white, stark, from a couple weeks ago. People that look like Dongsung are in the paper, on the same page as the recipe of the week.

Survived by his son, her son, his brother,  _Kim Dongsung_.

He doesn’t have to ask who did it.

 

Sangdo’s busy cooking when there’s a knock on the door. He sends the nearest person after it, which turns out to be Hojoon, because he can’t be bothered to stop chopping carrots long enough and also because he looks like a damn mess.

Hojoon comes shuffling back quickly, nearly slamming into the door frame and wheezing. “Sangdo, it’s the shit fucker.”

“What?”

“It’s fucking Sehyuk.”

Sangdo can’t drop the knife fast enough, wiping his palms on his pants and rushing to the door. Sure enough, when he opens it, Sehyuk is standing primly on his doorstep, dressed in the usual black leather and denim outfit. He hasn’t changed a bit, truly.

Sehyuk gives Sangdo a smile, though it’s fake. Sangdo can tell, he’s always been able to tell. “Good afternoon, Sangdo. Hope I’m not bothering you.”

“Oh yes, it’s always a joy.” Sangdo replies, stepping to the side to let Sehyuk in. “What do you want?”

“Well,” Sehyuk says, looking around the sect house, reminiscent of when you let your in-laws see your new house for the first time. “I’ve lost my Dongsung.”

“Lost him?” Sangdo repeats, and Sehyuk nods. “How the hell did you do that? He’s practically glued to you twenty-four-seven.”

Sehyuk makes a face, speaking with a bitter tone. “He saw his brother. I had him killed- not Dongsung, his brother- along with his parents, and had the house torched. The police kept it on the down-low with a little, ah, coaxing, but I let the newspapers publish obituaries.” In response to Sangdo’s look of utter confusion, he sighs and says, “He’s looking for things about himself. He’ll find that, and he’ll know.”

“Bullying him even when he’s out of your house- no, out of your sect, even.” Sangdo shakes his head, tsking. “Underhanded. Hojoon, be a dear and tell Hyosang and Byungjoo to not come downstairs?”

Hojoon makes a noise of affirmation from somewhere behind Sangdo and heads up the stairs, so Sangdo gestures for Sehyuk to sit.

Sehyuk does, settling into the couch and running a hand over his face. “Do you mind if I smoke?”

Sangdo shrugs, sitting on the other couch opposite Sehyuk. “Go for it. Why exactly do you think I have something to do with this? Dongsung knows full well how we feels about him, and you, so he wouldn’t come here. I’ve got no part in this.”

“But, you’ve got lots of sect members. Lots of loose ties, flapping in the wind.” Sehyuk digs through his jacket pockets, finding his desired cigarettes and withdrawing them. “Anyone of them could’ve done it.”

“Done it?” Sangdo echoes, making a face of disbelief. “My sect members are compassionate and loving people, but I’m sorry, do you really think they give a shit about any of your members? Maybe before what you did to Hyosang, but not anymore. None of them would have bothered.” Sangdo mulls over more things he could say in his head, picking and choosing so Sehyuk won’t have a meltdown in the middle of his living room, as he’s prone to doing when faced with adversity. “Are you just… unwilling to admit that you lost hold of him? That he’s gone?”

Sehyuk visibly flinches, thumb running over the wheel of his lighter thoughtfully before he actually lights his cigarette, placing it between his lips and taking a long drag off of it. “He’s not gone,” Sehyuk says, smoke drifting out with his words. “He’s just… I’ve just lost him, okay?”

“Sure, whatever. What were you hoping to accomplish by this visit, exactly?”

“I was just- I was hoping. I was hoping he was here, for some strange reason, and then I’d be able to take him back and not have to look all over the place for him.”

“Let him go,” Sangdo suggests.

Sehyuk stiffens. “No.”

“Why bother holding onto him?” Sangdo asks, resting his chin in his hands. “I never met Dongsung before you ruined him, but he was probably a good guy, to some extent. You made him awful, Sehyuk, just awful- he doesn’t deserve to be around you anymore. He never did.”

Sangdo thinks he sees Sehyuk’s eyes swimming, but it must just be a trick of the light. “It’s manufactured,” Sehyuk says dryly, holding his cigarette between two fingers and rubbing his thumb against the filter. “Dongsung’s love for me was fake. I made it myself. But it felt good for a while.”

“What exactly do you mean?”

“Hansol already told me to stop pitying myself,” Sehyuk remarks, bringing his cigarette back to his lips. “But that’s not going to stop me, really. Nobody loves me, Sangdo, nobody ever has and nobody ever will. As plenty of people have said before, I don’t deserve it. Dongsung himself has said it.” Sehyuk laughs, wry. It almost hurts Sangdo to hear; his previous words carry a sting. “I don’t know what ever made you better than me, Sangdo, I truly do not.”

Sangdo picks his words wisely. He feels like he’s trekking into uncharted territory; he’s never talked with Sehyuk about this sort of thing, about Sehyuk’s feelings, for longer than a few seconds. “Sehyuk, it’s because you were always obsessed with being better than everyone else- better than me, actually. Nobody knew you as Sehyuk, the guy with the highest GPA, or Sehyuk, the guy who was best at soccer… you were just Sehyuk, the guy who hates Sangdo. …And I’m sorry things turned out like this,” Sangdo adds after a moment’s pause. “I would have liked to be friends with you, once upon a time. We could have run a sect together, maybe. But now… we’re just this.”

Sehyuk stands up, then, stretching and finishing off his cigarette in one go. “Well, Sangdo, there’s no use in ‘maybes’ now. We both could have done a lot better. So whatever.”

Sehyuk heads for the door, but Sangdo rises from the couch and stops him, catching his wrist. Sehyuk turns towards him and Sangdo sees fear in his eyes for a moment, and he decides that yes, this is a good idea.

Sangdo gently folds Sehyuk into his arms, wrapping his arms around Sehyuk’s slim shoulders and holding tight. He doesn’t think they’ve hugged since the third grade, really. It’s almost a shock when Sehyuk’s arms go around Sangdo’s waist, though looser than Sangdo’s hold on him.

“I’m not lying,” Sangdo says, pressing his face into Sehyuk’s hair. “I really am sorry that things turned out like this. I can’t help you at this point, so I hope someone else can.”

Sehyuk turns his head to the side so he’s not speaking into Sangdo’s shoulder. “I’m sorry too. Sorry’s not going to fix anything on my end, far from it, but… I truly am.”

Sangdo raises a hand to card through Sehyuk’s hair for a few moments before he releases him, mustering up a smile. Sehyuk smiles back, and now Sangdo definitely sees tears. Sehyuk won’t let them fall, same as always. “Take care of yourself, really.” Sangdo says, and it feels so strange to say. Sehyuk, who’s been his sworn enemy since early middle school. Sehyuk, who perpetrated the abduction and subsequent torture of his boyfriend, fiance, his  _everything_. Sehyuk, who for all he’s done, is still worth something.

Sangdo feels bad for not realizing it sooner.

“Thank you,” Sehyuk says at last, sounding drained and empty. “You… take care of yourself too. Take care of your sect members.”

And with that, Sehyuk leaves without another word.

Sangdo sits on the couch, feeling empty himself, looking up from the floor when he hears the stairs creak.

Hojoon continues down the stairs, while Jiho and Hyosang linger at the top, peeking down at Sangdo from the first step. “What was all that about?” Hojoon asks, and Sangdo shrugs.

“Have you guys been there long?” Sangdo asks in turn, and Hojoon shakes his head.

“Just a minute or so, around the hug. It seemed kind of emotional, I didn’t know the fucker had emotions.” Hojoon comes to sit beside Sangdo on the couch, prompting the other two to head down the stairs as well. “What did he come over for?”

“Dongsung apparently… I dunno. Sehyuk said he saw his brother and then started remembering things, he wanted to find out who he used to be before Sehyuk fucked him up.” Sangdo sighs, putting his head in his hands. “I don’t know what to think, really. Sehyuk’s always hated me, since we were little, but it seems like he almost came to me for guidance? He… I think he’s reached some kind of breaking point.”

“Not entirely impossible,” Jiho remarks, sitting beside Hojoon. “Doesn’t excuse his past douchebaggery, but even the most fucked over have to get over themselves sometime or another.”

“I’m kind of scared for what he’ll do,” Sangdo says, sitting upright. “If he’s had some kind of breakthrough, he could do all sorts of things. I wouldn’t put it past Dongsung to just… y’know, just kill him. I also wouldn’t put it past Sehyuk to kill himself. Ugh.”

Hojoon pats Sangdo’s shoulder. “You never really get rid of childhood-friend-affection, huh.”

“Nope.”

 

“Hansol, dear.”

“What, Boss?”

“Why did you join my sect?”

Hansol looks over from his book, at where Sehyuk’s been laying in the middle of Hansol’s bedroom floor for nearly two hours. It’s quite unnerving to have him just laying there, doing nothing of note. “Uh, because you promised me that we’d do incredible things together and I was stupid.”

“Do you regret your decision?”

Hansol feels like he should give it some thought, but shrugs it off. “Yeah. But I had nothing better to do, my parents had kicked me out and I was only sixteen… so, yeah. It’s fine.”

Sehyuk sits up. His eyes are so empty. “Do you like me, Hansol?”

Again, it requires some kind of filter. Hansol doesn’t bother. “No. Not at all.”

Sehyuk simply nods, folding his legs up and picking at a ravelling on the hem of his pants. “I see. Well, that doesn’t matter. Hansol, would you kill me if I asked you to?”

“What?”

“I’m not in the habit of repeating myself, Hansol. I’m letting go, I suppose… giving up.” Sehyuk rises, stretching once he’s upright. Hansol stares at him. “There’s nothing left for me in this life, I’ve ruined everything I possibly could, I think… better luck next time.”

“I’m- I can’t kill you,” Hansol says in disbelief. “I- I just-”

“There’s no need to blubber on,” Sehyuk says, and he just sounds so  _tired_. “It’s fine, really. I’ll just have Dongsung do it.”


End file.
